Blood Oranges
by Cyranothe2nd
Summary: A dirty piece of HGSS shippiness to brighten the dark nights of winter. Rated R for some language and sexual content.


Takes place in Year Seven. A useless piece of dirty shippiness to lighten up the dark nights of winter…

Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione and Severus, I just use them from time to time. Please R/R, I update more when I know others are reading :D

Blood Oranges

It was nearly midnight when he came to her. She woke slowly to the feel of the night breeze cool on her skin. In the moonlight she could see the window unlatched and throw open to catch the last of spring. It made the white curtains billow like a cloak in a wild wind. She could feel him there, in the darkness. He often came to her like this, invisible and silent. He would kiss her with wild abandon and fuck her across her desk, spilling scrolls and ink across the stone floor as he hoisted her up and buried himself in her. She would cry his name, and the emptiness inside of her would howl for something, _anything_ from him. But he just thrust into her and then as quickly pulled away and left.

She often cried afterward. She didn't understand why she did it or why she allowed it. Maybe it was because so many of her friends had died. Ron was gone and a huge part of her was missing. Still, it was wrong and she knew it. During the day Hermione could see him and pretend that nothing happened, that she was strong. She had even managed to keep the blush from her cheeks after that first time. But when night came she was powerless to resist him.

She turned her face on the pillow now, seeking him out. Her cheek brushed against something and she picked it up, staring at the sphere. He spoke from the darkness and his voice was velvet.

"It is a blood orange. Try it."

Hermione dug her nails into the skin of the fruit. Juice squirted out, coating her fingers in stickiness.

"The blood orange was grown in South America hundreds of years ago. It's said that once just one fruit was worth more than a man's life. Slaves were traded for a seed from the fruit but it would only grow in the fertile soil of the Amazon. Legends spoke of a sorcerer whose very blood made the fruit flourish. He would slice his wrist and intermingle his blood with the dirt and a blood orange would be born."

His tantalizing voice caressed her senses. _Still teaching_, Hermione thought.

She had quartered the fruit and took a piece into her mouth, tasting it. It was surprisingly tart and she felt her mouth pucker but a moment later the tartness went away, replaced by a poignant sweetness that burst over her tongue and filled her throat. She swallowed and ate the other pieces, eyes searching the darkness. There, in that corner by the armoire, he had to be there. She licked the juice from her fingers deliberately. She was already wet with desire.

"Naughty girl, didn't you save me a piece?" His voice growled out of the darkness. He was not where she was looking but somewhere behind her. She turned but he was quicker, grabbing a handful of her copious hair and tilting her head back to savage her mouth. His tongue was everywhere, tasting and probing her. She moaned low in her throat, her body melting into his. It was always like this. She could not resist him, ever. She knew it was wrong and she didn't care. Still she tried.

"I…I can't." She gasped out, breaking away from his kiss. "Ron-"

He gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Don't tell me the Weasley boy can do this-" His hand reached between then and pressed into her wet clit. "Or this." His head darted down and took one of her nipples into his mouth.

"Oh." Hermione breathed. He was standing with his back to the window and Hermione was suddenly filled with the fierce desire to see him, to take in the planes and angles of his face, to watch him as he came.

"I-I want…" She gasped it. He chuckled low in his throat.

"Yes?" He purred close to her ear and his hand began moving faster on her. "Tell me what you want."

"I-I want to see you."

He froze.

"No, you don't." He said finally. "You don't want to see me. You want to see Weasley perhaps, or even Potter. Anyone but me."

He was drawing away from her, making as if to leave and she had one last desperate chance to finally end this madness, to do the right thing. She reached to her bedside table and grasped her wand, following him.

"Lumos." She said.

He stood there, staring at her and she stared back at him. His face had lost its usual nasty expression and now looked frustrated and a little frightened.

"Don't Hermione." He said lowly.

"Don't what?" She said, stepping into him. She could feel him, still hard beneath his robes. She pressed her naked body into him. She wanted him still. But not like before. Not as a guilty fumble in the dark. She lifted her smoky eyes to his nearly black ones.

"Kiss me again." She said. He swooped down, taking her face in his thin pale hands and kissing her. He bore her down to the floor and she touched him everywhere, giving and receiving in equal measure. And when he pushed himself inside of her he sighed her name, "Hermione." And she pulled him to her fiercely.

"Severus, my Severus." She keened. And she rocketed away with the taste of blood oranges in her mouth.


End file.
